#[2]
Death is a single moment.
He felt the rocky ground scratch his calves as he was dragged across the dry plain. He stared up at the glaring sun. He had started the day so full of hope, full of passion, yet here he was, the only survivor in a field of dead allies. Now, we has going to become a symbol. A symbol of his enemy's power.
His captors dragged him a bit further, then roughly threw his hands down onto the ground. He looked around and saw a thousand cold faces of enemy warriors. A cool wind blew through his hair as he realized he was on a raised piece of earth. He was the centre of attention, but for all the wrong reasons.
His view of the sun was suddenly blocked by a shadow, and he found himself staring into the merciless hard eyes of the enemy general. The general looked up at his two henchmen, and they gave a nod of acknowledgement.
One of the warriors kicked him the side, and as he recoiled in pain, he was pushed over so that now he could only see the brown earth of the ground, bordered by his wet hair and the sweat surrounding his eyes. He looked up at the enemy army in front of him. They seemed as if they were anticipating something. What was it? What do they want with me? He moved his head slowly left and right, staring at the large group of men, and he couldn't fathom what they were possibly waiting for. Then he saw the sword.
It was hideous and large, gleaming in the noonday sunlight. At this moment, he realized what would happen. The enemy was about to make a statement. A statement that would send shockwaves through the rest of the land. A statement made in a single moment.
The executioner called out to the general, and he nodded in approval. The sword was raised, a black shadow on the ground he was staring at. In this single moment, this single moment of death, his enemy would show the world that they were truly undefeatable. It would happen quickly. A single moment.
He looked up once more, just in time to see the general nod again. The sword came flying down, and he felt its sharp edge slam down onto the skin on the back of his neck, and through it. As it cut through flesh cleanly, he felt it make contact with his spine. His neck was pushed downwards as both metal and bone argued with each other for dominance. Finally, bone lost, and he felt the sword regain its momentum.
As the sword left the front of his neck, he was seized with an incredible agony. It was pure unspeakable hell, and as he sought to scream to relieve the pain, his mouth opened quickly in horror, and he felt his skin stopping the movement of his jaw, trying to prevent him from expressing his complete hysteria and agony.
The ground grew closer, but before he could even comprehend it, his vision went blank. The head dropped onto the ground and rolled over, revealing his tortured face, eyes wide open, a phantom scream escaping his wide open mouth. He was dead, and his death had happened in a single moment.